


Coda

by wargoddess



Series: A Family Affair [4]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Incest, M/M, Multi, PWP, Parent/Child Incest, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Sibling Incest, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 11:03:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18893326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wargoddess/pseuds/wargoddess
Summary: Dante sets out to rescue Nero from his folly. But which one of them actually needs rescue?  -Or- Dante forgot that Nero was *Vergil's* son, and now Vergil's got a whole new weapon.





	Coda

**Author's Note:**

> .........Goddamn it.

     Dante crouched amid the dust of the sparring ground, contemplating a splatter of blood.  The scents of sweat, redolent with fear and pain and elation and lust (blood and other), covered the whole ground, but here, alone, the contest had gotten serious for a moment.  He touched his fingers to the blood, sniffed, shivered a little in recognition and memory, then chuckled to himself.  Yeah, that was Vergil's, all right, and a decent amount of blood, at that.  Somewhere in the midst of their sparring, Nero had scored a good hit on his father.

     "Good job, kid," Dante murmured to himself, in amusement.

     He got to his feet.  The sparring ground was the ruins of the Redgrave town square, where a minor demon with the unimaginative name of Goliath had once died at Nero's and V's hands.  Technically Redgrave was habitable again; Dante and Nero had been thorough about killing every rootlet and dormant spore of the Qliphoth, even though the things couldn't grow without the power of the underworld to fuel them.  Humans took a while to get over genocide, however; go figure.  So until then, the destroyed -- and still empty -- city made for a great place to fight.

     The problem was that Redgrave was a solid few hundred miles away from the city that Dante and company called home, and if Dante simply drove there, Nero might be dead by the time he got there.  Not that he really thought Vergil would kill the boy out of pique over a flesh wound, not anymore, but...

     Well.  Uncle Dante to the rescue, just in case.  Dante sighed, summoned his wings, and took off in a streak of red.

     No one home at Devil May Cry, and no craters along the way.  That was a good sign.  To Dante's amazement, he eventually found them at Vergil's clock tower penthouse, which Vergil hadn't even voluntarily brought Dante to.  It was the proof of Dante's belief that Vergil had, against all odds, genuinely warmed to the boy... but somehow, Dante suspected, there was more to this than Vergil simply deciding to let Nero into his inner sanctum.  Folding his wings, Dante glided in between the blades of one of the tower's ventilation fans, then dropped lightly to the floor.

     Vergil, immaculately dressed, sprawled across a beautiful white chaise longue with one leg up and a book held open in his free hand.  He didn't bother to glance up from the book as Dante landed.  "Ah, good.  I could use your assistance with this, brother."

     "This," of course, was Nero:  naked, on his knees on one of Vergil's white polar-bear rugs, trussed up in a familiar contraption... and with his mouth currently full of Vergil's cock.  The contraption, Dante knew, was a set of Mephistopheles Branks -- one of the milder torture devices from the demon world.  Dante had owned a set for a few years, then sold it out of boredom, since at the time Vergil hadn't been back in his life.  He couldn't tell if this was the same set he'd sold, but it didn't really matter.

     Mephistopheles Branks took the form of a set of behind-the-back manacles for the forearms, attached to silver chains that wrapped around the body, culminating in a collar made of carbonized steel.  The collar was the core of the magic:  each of its runes had a different effect, and -- Dante raised his eyebrows.  Well, now.  Looked like all three of them were active, glowing baleful red with the power Vergil must have infused to activate them.

     Dante chuckled and shook his head as he folded humanity back around himself.  "Oh, kid.  You _really_ pissed him off, didn't you?"

     Nero rolled eyes that streamed with tears, and of course did not reply.  That wasn't just Vergil's cock, but the first power of the branks at work:  they silenced the wearer, with magic rather than the clumsier mechanical brackets or bars that human branks used.  The demonic version left the mouth free to be used for other purposes.  Vergil, apparently, had decided that this meant Nero facedown in his lap, lips flush with his pubic hair and one of Vergil's hands fisted in the boy's short hair to keep him there, for however long Vergil wanted.

     "He's mouthy," Vergil said.  His expression was calm, but that meant nothing; Vergil could, and had, looked calm in the middle of an apocalypse.  He sighed and closed the book, setting it on the floor.  "He scored the hit fairly, I will concede."  When Dante raised both eyebrows at this, Vergil inclined his head to confirm.  Which meant Nero must have scored a very good hit indeed.  There was no blood on him that Dante could see, but that probably just meant Vergil had taken a shower and changed clothes before beginning his revenge.  "I wouldn't have gotten angry if he hadn't opened his fool mouth to brag about it, however.  Always so mouthy, our Nero."

     Dante stifled a smile.  **_Really_** _good job, kid._   "Gotcha."  Dante strolled around the tableau, trying to appreciate it from all angles.  Nero was slimmer and shorter than both of them; Dante suspected a last growth spurt lurking in the wings.  Nero had already grown into a finely-detailed specimen of young manhood, however:  not too bulky, long and strong, with the beginnings of adult grace.  Usually Dante took care not to pay too much attention to Nero's beauty, because Nero was too selfconscious to be comfortable with it, and Vergil was... Vergil.  It was clear that Vergil meant for the boy to be admired this time, however, so Dante drank his fill of the sight. 

     "The silver's nice," Dante commented, taking care to keep his tone detached and appraising.  Maybe this wasn't the same set he'd had; that one had had brass chains.  Silver, however, set off Nero's coloring beautifully.

     "I had it customized a few months ago," Vergil said.  "Since I suspected I might need it."  As an afterthought, he finally let Nero's head up.  Nero coughed and slumped against the couch for a moment, gasping for air.  And then -- ah, yes.  Then he pushed himself up again, gaze intent on Vergil's cock, though Vergil caught him by the chin before he could lunge for it.  That was the second power of the branks -- a powerful demonic aphrodisiac spell imbued the device.  It was enough to drive even demon lords to madness after a few days of wear, especially if they weren't allowed to relieve the need.  A few hours wouldn't kill Nero, though.  Probably.

     Vergil glanced at Dante, smile widening just a touch.  "I'd originally intended these for you, of course.  I've found a much better toy for you, however -- and the branks are far more suited to him, in any case."  His voice dropped, dark velvet.  "I actually _like_ hearing your mouth, Dante.  Under the right circumstances."

     Well, well.  Vergil had been getting more creative lately.  Nero must have inspired him, and that was just fine.  Dante was more than happy to reap the benefits.  He came over to the couch and smoothed hands over Vergil's shoulders, liking the hungry tension he could feel in Vergil's body.  "Is that right?"

     Vergil sighed and let his head fall back onto Dante's belly.  Dante drew fingertips lightly up his brother's throat, resisting the instinctive temptation to extend his claws.  He could see Nero watching them and trembling a little, though he hadn't budged from Vergil's grip.  And _that_ was interesting, wasn't it?  Because Nero was a little asshole, and usually telling him to go left meant he would immediately go right, up, down, and twirl into a zigzag pattern.  What had Vergil done to make him so obedient, so quickly?

     "I promised him a reward," Vergil said, smiling as he caught the edge of Dante's thought.  They had grown so good at reading each other, lately.  He didn't need to tease this out of Vergil's mind, however; easy enough to guess what Nero had been promised, if Nero was actually willing to toe the line for once.

     "Did you, now?"  Dante stepped back and bent so that he could kiss Vergil.  Once, Vergil had allowed no tenderness between them, so now Dante savored it whenever he could get it.  Nero's coming had changed many things.  "Wanna get to it, then?"

     Vergil chuckled against his mouth.  "Impatient.  We'll have to work on that, with you, next."

     "Show and prove, big talker."  Dante licked his lips and stepped back, however, to let him stand.  When Vergil did so, he kept hold of Nero's chin, forcing the boy to stand up on his knees as much as the branks allowed.  This forced his head back to a visibly uncomfortable degree.  He made a little sound of protest that Vergil, of course, ignored.  Nero's eyes were on Dante, however, as Dante stripped off his clothing.  Just the jacket, boots, and shirt, since this was Vergil's house and Dante didn't want to hear him bitch about Dante's shoes or bare ass on the probably-very-expensive chaise.  He took care to unzip slowly, though, letting Nero's hungry gaze follow his fingers, and -- damn, it was gratifying, the way the kid moaned softly as Dante hooked his very interested cock free.  Gorgeous.

     (He'd been worried, of course.  Nero looked up to him -- a concept that constantly puzzled Dante, but it was the undeniable truth, and he hadn't wanted to ruin that aspect of their relationship.  Nero needed to know that there was one person out there who understood what his life was like, and, well, who hadn't ever ripped one of his limbs off.  But Nero was so human, sometimes.  Sex changed things for humans.  Since Vergil had laid claim to Nero, however, it had been surprisingly fine.  Dante and Nero lived together.  They worked and fought together.  They bitched at each other, ate pizza, bitched at Trish or Lady or Nico or Morrison, occasionally ate salads when Nero got nostalgic about the healthy shit his old girlfriend had once fed him.  And every few days, Vergil would come over, plow Nero through the floor, then do the same to Dante separately -- or get Dante in on the action for the sake of sexual efficiency.  Maybe they'd spar, too, and _those_ sessions were glorious:  the three of them going at each other for hours, sometimes two of them arbitrarily ganging up against the third, sometimes switching sides, always testing the limits of power and skill.  And then they had more pizza, Vergil went home, and Dante and Nero went back to their usual routine.)

     So Dante smiled now as he made himself comfortable, allowing himself a certain exquisite anticipation at the thought of Nero's foul, sarcastic mouth wrapped around his dick.  Later, he would demand a sparring session, too -- because if Nero had gotten good enough to cut Vergil when Vergil _wasn't_ exhausted, then he was going to be a delight to fight one-on-one.  First pleasures first, though.

     Once Dante was still, Vergil then guided Nero's head down, holding him firmly by the chin to keep him from just eagerly slurping Dante down at once.  "Patience," he said to Nero.  "No throat, just lips and tongue.  Show him the skill I've taught you."  He drew a thumb over Nero's lips.  "Can you do that?"

     When Nero nodded, swallowing audibly, Dante was stunned to see Vergil smile and bend to bestow a light kiss on Nero's lips.  "Very good," Vergil said.  "Now, then."

     He let Nero go.  Somewhere in the previous minutes, Vergil had tucked himself away, though Dante could still see the lump of him against the front of his pants.  Vergil did not take himself in hand, however, as he sat down in an antique chair nearby.  He just sat there, chin on fist, eyes gleaming as he watched Dante.  And what the hell was he waiting --

     Nero bit him.  It was extremely gentle, more just touch of teeth sans pressure to the head of Dante's cock than an actual bite, but it _was_ a warning, and it pulled Dante's attention sharply back to his nephew.  As Nero had intended, he saw then, because the boy flashed a smug little smile before opening his mouth again and...

     Oh, _shit_.  When in a thousand demon kings' names had Nero learned to suck cock like this?

     Because the kid was _good_.  Granted, Dante had never had the pleasure before.  Generally Vergil was selfish about keeping each of them focused on him and not allowing them to attend each other, because Vergil was an asshole too and Nero had gotten it honestly from him.  But it was clear that Vergil was just as perfectionist about this as he was anything else... or maybe that was wrong.  Maybe it was _Nero_ who had figured out just the right way to kiss a cockhead, and flicker at the little divot underneath it.  It was certainly Nero who watched him, now, as he dragged his tongue down the ridge underneath, pressing in just a little until he saw Dante inhale.  And Nero was definitely the one who lapped at the base of Dante's cock, probing and exploring, until he determined that the little bit just above Dante's balls was the most sensitive spot on his body. 

     This wasn't how it was supposed to work, with the Mephistopheles Branks.  The aphrodisiac spell should have been driving the kid into a frenzy, making him beg to be fucked --  But, Dante realized, Nero had somehow channelled all of his need into this singular, extraordinary blowjob.  He was hungry, _shaking_ with hunger, but somehow he'd gotten control of it.  Which made it perfect.  No sharp teeth, because the branks' third power kept him in human shape. And if he'd gone at Dante's sweet spot too hard, it would've been too much, but thanks to that iron control, Nero kept the touch of his tongue so light that Dante felt little more than just the heat of him.  A sweet, fleeting warmth, and then the coolness of evaporating moisture, and then the steady, warm caress of Nero's breath.

     "Oh my _God_ ," Dante groaned, writhing back on the chaise. 

     He heard Vergil's smug laugh, but it was distant, unimportant.  All that mattered was Nero, and Nero's glorious mouth.  Nero's glorious _tongue_ , which now curled 'round the circumference of Dante's cock as he dragged it back up, brutally slow.  Nero's sweet lips, which touched the head of Dante's cock again when he got there, and lingered for a while.  Dante felt the flick of his tongue once, but otherwise, just the steady pressure of those lips.  And just when Dante caught his breath -- because Nero was watching, waiting, being as precise about his timing in this as he was in battle -- Nero sucked the head between those lips, like a child slurping at a lolipop.

     God _damn_.

     It was torture, even though Dante wasn't the one in the branks.  It was amazing.  And when Dante mustered enough of himself to focus on Vergil, the sight of his brother's wide, wicked smile didn't even bother him.  Vergil rose, lithe and leonine, and stepped over to them.  When he put a hand on Nero's head, Nero immediately pulled free of Dante to glare at him.

     "Now, now," Vergil said, his tone indulgent.  "Angry, prickly child.  So much like me."  He stroked Nero's cheek.  "I promised you, didn't I?  And you may have him.  Do what you like, now."  He bent then, his mouth at Nero's ear, his eyes on Dante, and if a sword had been in Vergil's hand, Dante would have instantly braced for an attack.  But Vergil only smiled as he licked his lips.  "Just make sure I can see."

     Nero turned back to Dante, and -- whoa -- his smile was just as sharp-edged as Vergil's.

     _I think I'm in trouble_ , Dante thought giddily.  And then Nero came for him, and there was no more thought.

     He didn't last long.  He couldn't.  Not with Nero trying to swallow him whole, and nibbling at him, and pausing now and again to kiss that delicate spot above his balls, all while Dante moaned and grabbed at his head and tried not to die.  He did anyway, of course, wondering the whole time why the French called it the _little_ death because there was absolutely nothing little about it.  But when it was done and he lay twitching and gasping, listening to Nero growl and suck at him to get the last drops, he felt Vergil's hand stroke his face to catch one of his tears.  By this, Dante knew himself to be still alive.  Just.

     "Very good, Nero," Vergil breathed.  " _Very_ good."

     Through a haze, Dante heard him speak a word in the tongue of demons.  There was a metallic shattering sound as the Mephistopheles Branks released, and all at once he heard Nero's voice, hoarse and frantic.  "Please!  Please -- fuck, fuck, I can't stand it -- "

     "Shhh," Vergil purred.  "Be still.  I'll take good care of you, now."

     Dante drifted.  There were afterglows and there were afterglows, and what consumed Dante for the next small eternity was more like a nuclear reactor meltdown.  But as the light finally faded, he turned his head to see Nero on the floor in a gangly sprawl, whimpering and sobbing as Vergil stood above him in demon form, riding him so hard that the room shook.

     Or maybe the shaking was just Dante's imagination.  He turned his face to the glass ceiling, shut his eyes, and thought of nothing more until they were done.

     After a while, he heard a clatter as Vergil set the branks on a table beside the chaise.  Weight dipped the cushioning beside Dante.

     "Thank you, brother," Vergil said.  "I couldn't have dealt with him properly, alone."

     "Kiss my hairy white ass," Dante muttered.  He knew a trap when he'd sprung one, though at this point he couldn't exactly complain.  But he smiled, and he knew that Vergil did, too.

     After a moment, Vergil moved away, and then Dante felt Nero placed on the couch next to him.  It was instinct to pull the boy close and curl 'round him, and probably also instinct that made Nero murmur in his own postcoital haze and sigh in pleasure at this.  Dante had no idea _which_ instinct it was -- human, demon, probably the former but who knew, maybe demons liked to cuddle after a good lay, too.  But he was contented by the scent and warmth of family, nearby.

     Only one thing was missing.

     "You know I'm always with you, Dante."  Vergil's hand stroked his hair.  "Sleep, now.  I'll keep watch."

     That was good.  Vergil was strong.  Dante felt himself relax, satisfied.  Then soft, cool lips touched Dante's ear.  Vergil's hand stroked his throat, and Dante growled in pleasure at the light, stinging caress of his brother's graceful, fully-extended claws.

     "And in the morning -- or whenever you've recovered," Vergil drawled; Dante could actually hear him smile. "We'll get started on you."

**Author's Note:**

> (muttermuttermutterMUTTER) This better be it, damn it. (Glares at muse repeatedly.)


End file.
